


Chew Me Up

by DaniJayNel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Oneshot, based on Cruel Pornography by BOTDF, prompt/request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5019406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke could learn to like the song. Because Lexa was looking at her then, hips moving to the beat, eyes so dark they were almost frightening. She was smirking in the way that both made Clarke furious and weak in the knees.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Chew Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a request, and I don’t even know what happened with this story. I was inspired by Blood On The Dance Floor’s “Cruel Pornography”, so I wanted to write something for it, and then I went through the pending requests in my ask box on tumblr, saw this one and just, bam. It happened. Probably not at all what was intended, but oh well. To the person that requested this, sorry for the wait, hope you like it! To everyone else, I hope that you enjoy it too ^^ Please comment to let me know what you think.
> 
> Prompt: Lexa is captain of the cheerleaders and Clarke is class president, and the two hate/love each other.

Clarke watched her, entranced. She moved in the middle of the dance floor, commanding the space beneath her feet, forcing others to keep a distance from her. She was magnificent, the way she moved. Clarke had never been as aroused as she was staring at Lexa Woods, the cheerleader captain. And in that same vein, she felt just as bitter.

Drunkards around them yelled and hollered, and some poor fool tried to put his hands on Lexa. She whipped around and merely stared him down so fiercely that he stumbled back, tripped and then scurried away. Everyone else took the hint and let her be.

Raven’s house rattled with the loud music and teenage yelling. Alcohol spread around with ease—and a few strong substances too. It was so dark and stuffy inside that Clarke could barely breathe. And her eyes were hurting from all the frantic flashing lights and her ears were near to bursting, especially when the new song had a portion of screaming in it alongside the heavy, thumping bass. But it didn’t bother Lexa. Lexa was soaking it all in, moving her body like… like…

“You move like… poetry. You taste like… pornography.”

Ah yes, like poetry. Like the dirtiest poetry Clarke had ever read, and it was flustering her to no end. Part of her felt like Lexa was moving that way just to get under her skin. Clarke needed something to satisfy her growing anger and contempt.

 _Why does she get to me so easily?_ she thought bitterly. _That attitude of hers drives me nuts._

“You’re the drug, I’m the addict. Happy ending… turned tragic,” the song belted out, rattling through Clarke’s bones.

_Why am I even here?_

“Chew me up! Spit me out! Throw me up! Throw me out! Then we do it, then we do it all over again.”

Clarke could learn to like the song. Because Lexa was looking at her then, hips moving to the beat, eyes so dark they were almost frightening. She was smirking in the way that both made Clarke furious and weak in the knees.

“It’s the hate that we love, it’s the bullet it’s the gun!”

Seriously, who in the hell listened to music like this? Clarke drank the last of her alcohol, feeling only a slight buzz, and then focused back onto Lexa’s form. The song had ended, thank god, but now Lexa was walking towards her—no, not walking, stalking. Lexa moved like a panther, lithe and hungry, a predator on the loose. Her eyes were glossy and heated. It made Clarke wonder if Lexa was approaching to attack her or worse, sexually harass her—though Clarke knew she wouldn’t have really been against that, so it wouldn’t have been harassing at all.

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed. She smelled like booze, and Clarke crinkled her nose in disgust.

“You reek,” she observed.

Lexa rolled her eyes and somehow made the action look almost graceful. “Clearly I would, as I’ve drank my body weight in alcohol.” She seemed pretty sober for having drank that much, if she really had. But this close up, Clarke could see the faint redness against her skin. Okay, so maybe she really was pretty drunk. It was such a strange thing to see. Lexa rarely ever let herself go this wild. She was always meticulous, in tight control. She worked their school’s cheerleading squad until they either broke or quit. Clarke hated that about her—hated that she acted like such a simple thing like cheerleading was everything in the world to her. But she loved it, too. And each and every day Clarke had a raging war with herself. Did she stare hungrily at Lexa’s toned stomach, or fling spiteful comments at her? The battle was never ending.

“So what do you want?” Clarke asked, almost yelling. The music had picked up again, with another vulgar song about dirty pirates or something.

Lexa stared at Clarke, and then she surprised her by grabbing hold of her arm and then tugging her out of the lounge and into the hallway. “It’s too loud there,” Lexa told her.

Clarke furrowed her brows but quietly followed. Her heart was in her throat, that much she could admit. Lexa’s hand was insanely warm, and it made her skin tingle where they touched.

“Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum we go, it’s my duty to please that booty,” Clarke heard blasting behind her, and almost immediately her eyes slid down to Lexa’s jean-clad ass. She grinned to herself, thinking not for the first time that _damn, Lexa really must work out._

“Stop staring at my ass,” Lexa commanded. She hadn’t even turned around. Not once. Clarke had been watching. Lexa was completely facing forward. How in the fuck…?

“I wasn’t,” Clarke answered, flushing. “You wish.”

They made it out the front door and into the garden, and Lexa finally released Clarke’s wrist. She sighed lightly and rubbed at the still tingling skin, half relieved and half disappointed. What would if feel like to have Lexa touch her elsewhere? She shook her head quickly to rid herself of such thoughts, especially since Lexa was watching her again.

“When I was dancing,” Lexa began, “you were staring at me.”

Clarke burnt red. “How did you even see me?”

A small, sly smirk worked its way onto Lexa’s face. She was usually super guarded, so seeing these many fluctuating expressions on her face—though smug and outright flirtatious—made Clarke seriously question her decisions in life.

“I see everything, Clarke,” Lexa uttered. She was always so… goddamn smoky and hot, and there was no way Clarke’s tipsy brain could handle it. As usual Clarke’s temper jumped to the front to distract her deeper feelings, but before she could really open her mouth and shoot back a sarcastic and borderline bitchy comment, Lexa stepped closer and then promptly tripped and fell on her ass.

“Well,” Clarke choked out. “Apparently not _everything._ ” She pointed at the loose brick that Lexa had tripped over, not even holding her amusement back anymore.

Lexa merely sighed, though her face was aflame. “We all fall sometimes, Clarke,” she said, as if all the thoughts in her head were made out of flowing poetry. “I’m human too.”

Clarke shook her head, laughing. “I can’t believe you just fell on your ass.”

Lexa glared at her, but had no apparent comeback. So Clarke plopped down beside her, and then she grinned.

“You aren’t so infuriating when you’re drunk and stumbling,” Clarke told her.

Once again Lexa rolled her eyes and she finally sat up and attempted to brush the dirt from her leather jacket. “Har har.”

“Are you okay though?” Clarke hadn’t intended to ask, she really hadn’t. She hated Lexa, though, right? She despised her. Couldn’t stand how perfect she was, how gloriously tempting she was. So why did Clarke sound almost concerned? Like she generally cared? Lexa seemed just as surprised, since she left her jacket as is and turned to Clarke with widened, surprised eyes.

“I’m fine,” she breathed. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Clarke blurted. She winced and then sighed. Seeing Lexa on her ass must have shifted the earth’s magnetism or something. Was Clarke starting to actually consider Lexa as a real human being with real feelings?

“So why are you even here?” Lexa asked, softly.

It was just as Clarke had asked herself. “Why are _you_ here?” she countered instead.

Lexa rolled her eyes yet again. “I was stressed out. Dancing relaxes me.”

Clarke snorted. “You were dancing like a professional stripper.”

Lexa’s eyes snapped to hers, burning. “And what if I am?” she spat. “What if I shake my ass for extra cash?”

“I’d like to see that,” Clarke shot back. She had meant it tauntingly, like she couldn’t believe the notion, but it came out like a desperate request. Lexa must have heard the want in her voice—because _of course_ despite acting like she hated her and maybe actually did hate her a little, Clarke had a hopeless crush.

Lexa lifted a perfectly maintained eyebrow. “I’d be happy to strip for you.” She got onto her knees suddenly and clutched at her t-shirt, shrugging out of her jacket. Clarke sputtered as Lexa crawled on top of her, and no doubt went blood red in the face. Lexa stared down at her with utter seriousness. She slowly inched her shirt upwards, revealing toned, golden skin. She was so, _so_ sculpted and Clarke gulped so loudly that Lexa must have heard.

“Seriously?” she gasped out.

Lexa lifted her shirt all the way until the underside of her breasts peeked out from underneath—because apparently she was wearing a sports bra—and Clarke watched very, very intently. She must have looked like a very red fish, with her mouth gaping and all. Lexa’s thighs pressed tightly to her hips, and Clarke held herself back from reaching out and clutching them. Lexa smirked down at her, and then she was descending. She dropped her shirt, thank god—no, not thank god, damnit, lift it again—and trapped Clarke to the ground with a hand pressed to each side of her head on the soft grass. She leaned down so far that their lips were but a breath apart. Clarke closed her eyes, waiting.

“I was joking,” Lexa whispered against her lips. She rose then and climbed off of Clarke, stretching to retrieve, dust off and don her jacket. “Did you seriously think that I would strip as a profession?”

Clarke blinked. Anger filled her chest. There it was, that attitude that she hated so much. Not one moment went by where Lexa didn’t do _something_ to mess with her. “I am going to actually kill you this time,” Clarke growled, sitting up.

Lexa lifted a brow, eyes acting innocent but her mouth set in a smug smirk. “And why would you want to do that? Was my offer not tantalizing enough?”

Clarke allowed herself time to breathe. She didn’t respond, and instead studied Lexa very closely. Lexa watched her too, face as impassive and stony as always, though that smirk remained. Clarke wanted to wipe it off of her face. She wanted to know what that smirk would taste like stolen by her lips.

With a sudden burst of bravado, Clarke shot up onto her knees and then grabbed Lexa by the front of her shirt. Lexa expected a punch, since her arms shot up to protect her face, but then Clarke pulled her face down and their lips pressed together. She barely waited before taking Lexa’s full bottom lip between her teeth and _biting_. Lexa froze, and then she did something that neither expected—she moaned.

Clarke pulled back and grinned. “Did I just hear you moan?”

Lexa collapsed onto her ass, a hand lifted to cover her mouth. “N-no!”

“Oh this is priceless.” Clarke crawled forward, almost purring. “Is that a thing for you? Biting?”

Lexa had never been this flushed before, not even with the alcohol. “Yes,” she breathed. She furrowed her brows, and then straightened and cleared her throat. “I didn’t expect that.”

Clarke paused in her advance. Lexa was actually… adorable, when she blushed like that. She was tracing a finger over her bottom lip, and then she sucked it into her mouth and bit down on it herself. Clarke watched, suddenly turned on again.

“You know, I can totally do that for you.”

Lexa lifted a brow. “Clarke, do you hate me or do you want me? We’ve been doing this dance for years.”

Clarke shrugged. “Maybe both.”

“Make up your mind.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes, then she pulled Clarke against her and kissed _her_ this time. Clarke inhaled sharply, barely able to register that Lexa had pushed her down onto her back _again._ Those lips were so soft, so warm against her own. They moved frantically, roughly, and then Lexa’s tongue brushed against her lower lip and Clarke allowed her in, groaning when that hot, wet tongue swept against her own. Wow, Lexa definitely tasted like very strong alcohol, but it was enough to cloud Clarke’s mind even more, and she no longer cared.

“It’s the hate that we love,” Lexa spoke against her lips, grinning. She nibbled on Clarke’s lip, earning herself a hearty moan. “I think that song summed up my feelings perfectly.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and rolled them over, claiming the top for herself. “Shut up,” she growled. “Don’t say another word.” Lexa opened her mouth to disobey, but Clarke quieted her with another hungry kiss.

It was gross how much she enjoyed kissing Lexa, the one person she was convinced she hated. It was disturbing how much she was enjoying herself. Lexa was so sensitive, she found. She skin at her hips especially, since Lexa jerked in surprise when Clarke caressed the skin there. And then her lips, so full and warm, were sensitive to Clarke’s tongue and teeth.

Clarke could learn to like Lexa, with the way their mouths moved desperately together.

_Chew me up, spit me out! Throw me up, throw me out!_

The song echoed in Clarke’s ears, and suddenly she wanted to hear it again.

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed.

“What?”

“Your hand…”

Clarke glanced down, grinned. She was still stroking Lexa’s hip, slowly working her way up her stomach. “What about it?”

“Either do something substantial with it, or nothing at all,” Lexa commanded.

Clarke sucked in an angry breath. “You’ll regret challenging me.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Will I really?”

Clarke’s hand shot upwards, underneath Lexa’s bra. It resulted in Lexa gasping in surprise, and then she was grinning. “Just shut up,” Clarke growled. “Shush and let me finally have my way with you.”

Lexa did.


End file.
